A few words from your humble host
Sebastian’s player has provided this in-character journal. The same privacy (i.e. I’m not revealing the author’s name without permission) and copyright (remains with the author) disclaimers I used for Kali’s origin story apply.
I’ve slightly edited it for consistent names, and also added headings to break up the flow. Due to length I’ll be posting this in chunks. The instalment today covers a prologue and the cast list.
Also as previously noted this is the “official” version being circulated in game. That said I have inserted some out of character footnotes marked as Snark from the Proprietor (SFTP).
But that’s enough from me, on with the show!
“No story should go untold.”
This idea has been running rampant in my thoughts for the past weeks of my long adventure, and given the likely significance and magnitude of the events our group has uncovered, I have decided to commit our deeds down for posterity, and I must admit, to appease my ego. Rather than being a slave to it, I intend to chain it down as a motivator, and learn from it.
This story begins, alas, not quite at the middle. Perhaps one day I shall go back and note down our early works, but this tale begins shortly after the idea to write was conceived- some miles south of Bridges, in a Ramsey convoy headed out from Drakehold, and from further beyond that, the small town of Lookout.
Our previous deeds in brief concerned our group dismantling a criminal organisation, clearing our names of this group, taking a convoy to Drakehold, being ambushed by werewolves, fighting massive numbers of undead (The savvy reader may know of the Drakehold Ghoul incidents), and then resuming the convoy. Nothing too major.
Before I continue, a quick review of the cast might be in order- where tales take place is mostly irrelevant, but who takes place in them matters greatly.
Sebastian White. This is me, your occasionally humble  author, classically trained bard and, honestly, one of the more brilliant men you will ever meet. I am descended from the stock of angels themselves, and speak over 16 languages fluently. Born and raised in Altar, I have widely travelled the realm almost entirely because I could . Though I do provide advice and inspirational words, my spell-casting is admittedly second rate in comparison to others, and my swordplay is downright dismal. Still, it suits me fine to let the others do the bleeding.
Frodina. My Halfling partner in crime. (Not literally, and should that be half-partner?) I met this lovely woman in the city of Redia, and after she attempted to cut my purse while I was rigging our poker game, we became fast friends, even faster when our mutual opponent realised most decks don’t contain seven aces. Her roguish charm and wide array of abilities compliment my own stunning looks and wide knowledge base. We were forced to leave Redia after a misunderstanding with the local baker involving three camels, a magical belt and an intimate part of clothing, which I understand has since passed into local legend, embarrassingly enough . Frodina is my closest friend, and I would not hesitate to lay my life down for her.
Kelain Oaksreach. A man I can insult freely in this book without fear of retribution, because the poor man hasn’t learnt how to read . While he will freely offer his opinion where it is not wanted, and with the etiquette of a dead stoat, I believe he is a good man and a stunning archer to boot. He hails from the Unseen Valley, and often relates our tracking experiences to his previous life there. Once he learns to leave talking to the professionals I suspect I’ll like him a lot better.
Jamir Veri Oddling. The quiet yet dependable one. A cleric of Pharasma, we suspect that we may have met sometime within our pasts. He is kind and eager to assist the rest of us – and when the undead appear, he shows us that Pharasma is his chosen deity for reason.
Rune Stoned. I would like to ask a chronomancer permission to go back through time, find his parents, and slap them silly. Even for a dwarf, no, especially for a dwarf, his name is simply ludicrous. However I’ve seen him crush drakes in combat, so I’m not overly eager to mock his name . Much. I can still run faster than him.
Kozuket. People of his type are in short supply. A lame gnomish oracle of life. One would be hard-pressed to find another such anywhere in Florin. Though his divinations are apparently as changeable as the wind, this gnome is wise and apparently well-experienced enough to offer the rest of the party advice on many a topic. Could be party leader, but that’s a tall order. Also pertinent: Excels at channelling in a pinch, and not getting his head stuck high in the clouds .
Raylt. A human fighter with a sense of humour that should be criminal . Good in combat, quite obviously. I’ll only mention him in passing in the hope he’ll come to his senses. It’s unlikely.
Kali. A cavalier from the Drakehold, the bond she shares with her steed, Libertas, is quite unique. Like many other mounted horsemen , Kali specialises in longer weapons, her favoured butcher’s tool being the glaive. Kali and Libertas are quite literally our heavy cavalry- in a fight we can rely on them to give far more than they take. She is quite a friendly soul, though quick to offer warnings. Strangely enough, in charge of party finances. Nobody has ever argued with her about this – her horse seems to have a strange affection for gold  which none of us would care to suffer a broken neck for.
Hector. Hector is a strange blend between those we think of us monks, and those more like rogues- yet what he steals is time itself. Not that I see this as particularly useful – what good is a time thief if he can’t even steal a few seconds for himself? If he’d stop stealing time from me by telling me what not to do, he could perhaps take up basket-weaving or some other useful skill. I’m fairly certain he owns a bow .
Eric Pelorson. The son of Pelor, or is he? He seems rather eager to prove this is not the case, contrary to what most everyone else would have done . He like me is of angelic stock, though whether this is from Pelor, or someone else remains to be seen. He is a sorcerer, and enjoys hurling flames around in a beautiful display that melts faces. I haven’t the heart to crush his repeated denials of his true nature though.
 SFTP: Ah, this would be a noodle incident then?
 SFTP: Ah yes, the first futile attempt to cleanse the official version for public consumption.
 SFTP: I see two possibilities here. One is that Sebastian has not spent much time speculating about the possible misuse of a reputation for divine descent. The other is that Sebastian knows exactly why Eric is doing what he is doing, but doesn’t want that on the public record.